


What's a minute to a Lifetime?

by That_Familiar_Feeling



Series: And In The Hollows Of Their Footprints [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Sibling Bonding, good older sister, like by 30 years, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Familiar_Feeling/pseuds/That_Familiar_Feeling
Summary: The night before Cassian is sent away to the Ostwick Circle, he has a quiet moment with his older sister that will last him many years thereafter.





	What's a minute to a Lifetime?

**Author's Note:**

> Cassian is my newest darling and I love him, his whole family, and everything I get to do with him. Also my first dragon age fic that I've uploaded.

   Summer in Ostwick was christened by near constant humidity and the pervasive scent of Bougainvillea and Plumeria. Being so close to the coast of the Amaranthanth meant that summer was heavy with rain clouds and salt seasoned winds, everything coalesced into the constant flow of the current both above and below water.

The Trevelyan Estate was miles out from the coast, but still the wind carried and danced through the orchards and gardens like a song. Bright and cheerful and full of the festival that took up most of the month. 

Within however, the Estate was silent.

It was cold and every noise was muffled under an oppressive layer of grief and apprehension. No one dared to step out of their room, afraid to look out their window in case the first blush of morning was making its appearance, afraid to acknowledge the unknown that morning would bring.

 

 No room was colder than his little lordship Cassian Trevelyan’s. 

A thick mist hung in the air, and not even an open window dispelled the heavy aura of fear. Thick dew drops were forming on the windows, and little dragon puffs of air come from the pile of blankets on the bed. None of the blankets could keep out the cold, for it came from within.

Ice crystals had formed on the door, fueled by a raging storm of fear and guilt and emotional pain. The mist was close to form clouds, and the little boy was terribly worried that anymore moisture would ruin his drawings.

 

There was a silence as well, heavy and frightening enough that when a quiet knock rang through the room the boy flinched and hid beneath the covers once more.

The door opening was announced by the crunch of ice as it was forced apart, and footsteps crunched across the floor that was covered in frost, a soft hiss of pain and Cassian peaked from his shield.

 

 His sister Anaïs was hopping from one foot to another beside his bed, her hand balancing on the nightstand. She grimaced as the frost bit into her soles and toes and her sharp breaths came out as clouds. She was dressed in her warmer nightgown and her dark hair was pulled up in a very messy bun she must have done herself. 

She looked at the ground with little concealed anger, but he knew she wouldn’t sit on the bed let alone touch it until he gave her permission. Out of the entire family, Anaïs knew best how to confront an upset Cassian. And he knew without a doubt that even if he did speak, she would still stand there unless he said she could join him explicitly. 

 

And she knew him as well, knew him with and without his words. She knew that when an edge of the blanket lifted and bright hazel eyes peeked out, that it was his honest word for her to join him. 

She jumped into the bed and burrowed quickly under the large quilt- with a gleeful smile she pressed her toes to his legs and her little brother squealed and kicked away. 

 

It took a moment for them to calm and catch their breath, and by the time they were laying face to face the room as warm enough that the clouds had parted.

Still, the heavy weight of tomorrow kept them silent.

 

Anaïs knew what was coming, but only because mother had told her. Mother had trusted her with keeping her little brother company until he had to go, not like she needed to be told to anyways. She knew that in the morning, they would all gather for their last breakfast as family.

Father would take the head of the table, with Mother holding his hand to his Right, and Maxwell staring broodingly at his plate to the left. Heron would sit next to Maxwell, across from Anaïs  and he would carry any conversation because he detested the silence. And little Cassian would sit by his sister and say naught a word, nor would he eat. Perhaps he would occasional shoot a glare at Maxwell, or perhaps his plate would be covered in frost by the end of the meal.

Regardless, after they’ve eaten Father and Mother will gather his things, and they would all wait for the Enchanter Lady to come.

 

And then Cassian would be gone…

 

“I’ll visit…” she promises. She doesn’t know if its true or not, so she doesn’t feel like its lie. She detests lying like Heron destets silence. If she listened closely now, she’d bet there’d be humming from his room down the hall. 

 

Cassian shuffled and she watched his face contort into a bitter scowl. She knew that face, knew it since he was a babe. It was the calm before the storm and she may have detested lying but she  _ loathed _ Cassian crying.

“No… no look at me… Cassie…” she put both of her little hands on his cheeks and tilted his face around until he met her eye for eye. One bright golden hazel, and the other dark leather brown.

“I. Will. Visit. And if they don’t let me, I’ll run away and find you. And if they stop me, then I’ll..I’ll..”she memorized his little pudgy face and bit her lip.

 

_ She despised crying _ .

“A..a... Templar...I’ll be a Templar and I’ll be  _ your _ Templar and no one will ever hurt you and you’ll never be alone.” She was begging, not him, but the Maker. Because she couldn’t fathom little Cassie being all by himself among people who won’t understand.

 

_They won’t_ _understand_. 

Not how his face changes, how easily his emotions paint his entire body. How he scrunches up in anger versus how he contracts in fear. How he giggle before he laughs and how he’s the most pleased when he’s perfectly silent. How he would rather sit with mother and darn the clothes and fancy skirts rather than take to the fields with Maxwell and Heron and the other big boys- but if Anaïs asked he would dart for the door and race her across the back pasture.

 

They wouldn’t understand, and it broke her heart.

 

“Cassian, baby brother I  _ promise _ you’ll be okay…” she pressed their foreheads together and held him as his little body shuddered with unfinished sobs. “You’re  _ my _ brother and they will never take that away. Okay? Please…”

Cassian squirmed until he was tucked under her chin and hugging her middle tightly. His hair was still so soft, and it was still changing from the mousey grey he was born with into something like soft cotton. Another sign of change they couldn’t ignore but couldn’t speak of.

 

Mother had told them all that it was because Cassian was special. That we was like the sea, ever changing and dancing. Heron was like the wild animals, free and far wiser than they appeared. Anaïs was like the ships at the harbor market- steadfast and strong enough to weather any current. And Maxwell was the stallion in the pasture, regal and born to command the field. 

And if her children were these wonderful things, and her husband was the grand oak in the back garden- then Mother was a beautiful flower. Splendid and blooming… wilting...

Anaïs sniffled and hugged her brother tighter, willing away sunrise.

 

“Would you…”

Anaïs peeked open an eye and frowned,”Hm?”

The boy snuffled and hid his face in her neck. “Would you really become a Templar...mama says it’s really really hard to do…”

She nodded and ran a soothing hand over his back,”It’d be worth it. Because I’d be the best and I’d be able to look after you and everyone else who had to go to a circle….”

Cassian huffed and relaxed into her embrace,”But you wouldn’t get to make the choice right? You’re little...like me…”

 

Anaïs gave a snort and rolled her eyes,”So? I’ll get big, and I’ll be better than all the old timers. I can already kick Heron’s butt…” she felt a prod to her rib and smiled.

“Heron lets you win because Mama told him too…” Cassian as pouting and she knew it. So she squeezed him until he gave a warbled squeak.

“A win is a win little brother.” She sighed and looked out the window, the barest peek of purple at the horizon. “I mean it though. If you need me to follow, I’ll go.”

 

It was silent in the room for a long time, and it remained until the time a rosy pink was just kissing the horizon when Cassian’s timid reply came.

“Mama is a mage… and mama went to the circle. If she can do it, then I can. She wouldn’t let anything ever hurt me…” he finally pulled away and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked so tired and worn down and it made Anaïs frown deeply. He hadn’t been sleeping well since his fight with Maxwell, the first day they knew he would be leaving- a mere week ago. 

“Mama would  _ never _ let you get hurt, right. She’s the best, and she’s strong and brave and beautiful and you’ll be like her. And you’ll come home too…”

They both knew  _ why  _ Mama was coming home, but for now they could hope.

 

They waited for a long time in the warmer silence. Bird song started drifting through the window and the sky was becoming a lovely watercolor, and they laid there and would until someone decided it was time to rouse the children.

“You don’t have to visit...because you might not be able to…” Cassian mumbled, eyes drooping- “But you  _ will _ write. You’re hand is pretty and it’ll make everyone else jealous… you write to me and I’ll write back.”

“I’ll tell you all about the trouble the boys get into.” She nods and hugs him again,”And how Mama….how..her garden. I’ll write to you about her garden and tell you how the flowers are blooming.”

_ I’ll still be there _ went unsaid.

 

It was Mother who came. eventually; opening the door and frowning at the puddles of water on the floor and the slightly chilled air. But she smiled sadly at the large bundle of tangled limbs and drool on the bed. Her youngest children seeking comfort in the most familiar place they know- each other.

With a quiet blessing, and a quick flick of her fingers- flowers crept through the window and filled the room with the sweet scent of the garden, of home.  She closed the door- a few more minutes would not harm a coming lifetime. 


End file.
